


Too Much Junk in the Trunk

by SBG



Series: Little Problem [4]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M, Timestamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-11
Updated: 2013-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-25 02:03:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SBG/pseuds/SBG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve flicked his attention to the rear view mirror, cocked at the right angle to reflect the small boy dozing in his car seat. The child looked lovable that way, but he knew all too well that looks deceived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Much Junk in the Trunk

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while for wee!Danny. Even he has been giving me guff, writing-wise. I need a muse resuscitation after a busy December, I think! Thanks, as ever, to [annieke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annieke) and [LdyAnne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LdyAnne) for the first reads! :)

The street blurred in front of him and he blinked to clear his vision. The last thing he needed was to get into a wreck when he was hauling such precious cargo. Steve was bone weary, the day’s adventures hitting him harder than they should have. He chuffed out a small laugh. Civilian life might be making him too soft, though in this case he thought the exhaustion was justified. He felt like he’d been training all day, except he was wrung out in a bad way. It wasn’t just the multiple foot chases he’d been involved in, no. The emotional aspect was what had really taken a toll. He flicked his attention to the rear view mirror, cocked at the right angle to reflect the small boy dozing in his car seat. The child looked lovable that way, but he knew all too well that looks deceived.

“You’ve taken at least five years off of my life today, Danno,” Steve murmured. “It’s a good thing you’re so damned cute. Both of you.”

They’d reached a tentative truce, he thought. The act of getting him strapped into the car seat had not been as traumatizing for either of them as it had been earlier in the day. Truce might be a strong word, he conceded after a moment’s glance at the sweetly sleeping child. Truthfully, the little guy was as exhausted as he was himself and it had only been a matter of time before the scrappy fights and attempts at running away made way for a nice, long nap. He kept saying it, hoping it and being disappointed when it didn’t come true fast enough for him, but with any luck when Danny woke up it would be as a thirty-five-year-old. 

Steve would always hold a wounded kind of fondness in his heart for the small-sized version of his partner, but he wanted Danny back with such ferocity it took him by surprise. 

He thought he knew what their … thing was to him, but the way missing Danny felt like someone had run him through with a rusty sword was new and unexpected. He hadn’t been more than a few feet away from Danny all day, barring the escape attempts, yet what was going through his heart and head felt like the worst case of separation anxiety in the world. There was no way the thing of his and Danny’s as he defined it should produce such a desperate feeling. He needed a new definition. He needed Danny to help him come up with one, and not the runt Danny crammed in the back seat of the Camaro.

“Mmmph, home wanna,” Danny’s sleepy voice said, soft and barely audible. “Mommy.”

He flicked his eyes into the mirror again, expected Danny to be awake and about half a second away from a huge tantrum. Danny had spent all day trying to get home. It had taken him too long to disengage his own hurt feelings about the running and realize that and when he had, it about broke his heart. He couldn’t blame the boy for wanting to find something familiar, and he also couldn’t do anything to help. As far as Danny was concerned, he was in a strange place surrounded by strange people and Steve was the primary one keeping him from what he wanted. Okay, if the twist in his gut meant anything, he hadn’t done a terrific job at disengaging. It still felt personal. 

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” Steve said, keeping his voice soft and higher in pitch than his usual rumble. He watched Danny’s mouth move, his nose wrinkle and his head tilt even further to the side as his sleep deepened. “It’s gonna be fine. I’ll get you home, even if it’s not the home you want right now.”

If he thought about it, Danny’s experiences as a toddler mirrored very closely the experiences he’d had on O’ahu up to the point Steve met him. Even after he’d partnered them up, Danny had made no qualms about expressing his desire to be anywhere but Hawai’i. He frowned as he thought how close Danny had come to leaving the islands for good, before he … before their thing was a thing he no longer knew how to classify. He shook himself out of it, didn’t know why he was so maudlin about this. Onakea had said Danny would be back to his old self eventually, and the time of adult Danny wanting to hop on a plane right the hell out of there had long passed.

“You and I are going to spend some quality time together, kiddo. We’ll have to make do,” he said to the sleeping Danny, aware he'd given that speech before and that it was more for his own benefit than Danny's. 

Danny gave a small sigh. 

This mixed-up emotion rolling through him would go away, he thought, and then what rolled through him was something much more tangible – hunger. His stomach grumbled and, damn, he wished he had thought of that while he and Danny had been out finding clothes. Steve had come to the conclusion that if he was going to survive the rest of this curse alive, sane and intact, he was going to have to barricade Danny into a much more controlled space. After rushing into traffic to keep the kid from being run over, he had cleaned out the childproofing section at the Target. He had gates and doorknob lock devices and those plastic outlet covers. He had a giant pack of Pull-Ups. Food appropriate for a kid had been the last thing on his mind. 

He was not risking the miniature Houdini back there disappearing on him again before he got them both home, though, and removing Danny from his car seat would only result in another disappearance. Steve was positive about that.

“I’m sure I’ve got some oatmeal or something. Shit, what do kids your age eat?” 

Steve kept his attention on the road and high volume of afternoon traffic, glancing to his mounted phone only long enough to scroll down to and punch the HQ icon. The phone rang twice on the other end before someone picked up.

“Steve. You need rescuing again already?” Chin said by way of greeting, and the smile was evident in his tone. “We’ve told you, _brah_ , you can’t let the _keiki_ get to you. You’re the boss, not him.”

“You’re hilarious, and keep it down. Danny’s asleep right now, and I’d like to keep it that way,” Steve said. The cockles of his heart were _not_ warmed by the remaining adult members of Five-0 and their reaction to the whole fiasco. “Listen, I need some intel.”

“You’re on speaker. Intel on what, Steve?” Lori asked. “We’ve already supplied you with quite a few guidelines.”

Steve sighed. Their guidelines had included such helpful things as keeping Danny away from palm trees, supergluing his clothes onto him, investing in a microchip and strapping a camera to the boy to see what the world would look like from that point of view. Kono had mentioned how that would be useful even after Danny returned to his normal self, with a lewd eyebrow waggle he was sure would haunt his dreams for some time to come. His vote was no on sex tapes of any kind, Danny-cam or not. 

“Look, it’s just that I forgot to consider food choices and for reasons I’d prefer not to go into, I don’t want to stop anywhere else public with Danny.” Steve did not need them knowing about Danny playing in traffic, no. “I’m out of my element here. I have some stuff at home, but I have no idea what he might eat.”

“It’s not that challenging to make a grilled cheese or something,” Kono said. “He’s a child, not an alien.”

“Not convinced of that,” Steve muttered. “Just … can you please do a search and send me some easy ideas and recipes? I don’t want to risk taking the time to focus on that. I have to keep both of my eyes on this munchkin. You all saw how he got all the way to the clock tower, so don’t tell me I’m exaggerating.”

“Yeah, got it.” Chin sounded much more sober now. “If nothing we send works for what you have on hand, just let us know. One of us can make a grocery run for you.”

“I would really appreciate that. _Mahalo._ And guys? Until this blows over, I think I’m going to keep Danny at my place,” Steve said. “Chin, you got this? I didn’t get a chance to call the governor in on this and had really hoped it wouldn’t last all day. If I contact him, it’ll be this thing, and, well.”

“I’ll try to explain it to Denning. I’d expect a call from him, though.”

“Yeah. Thanks, man, do what you can.” 

Steve ended the call, let out a breath and stared at the hideous amount of traffic in front of him. He was aggravated by it for a moment, but then decided to look at it as a blessing in disguise. The longer they were in the car, maybe the longer Danny would sleep and he’d be able to enjoy some peace. He wasn’t a delicate flower by any means, but the constant diatribe of frustration and hate Danny aimed at him stung even after he figured out the toddler logic behind it. If a nap was the only way he could escape that, so be it. Besides, Danny was too adorable all sleep-soft and rumpled with his bright blue T-shirt gathered up enough to reveal a sliver of his slightly chubby middle. He sneaked another peek in the rear view mirror…

…and jerked the steering wheel so hard in the wrong direction he nearly crunched over one of those ridiculous Smart cars which had drawn alongside him.

“Shit, what the fuck?” he shouted as he righted the car to a soundtrack of a miniature horn honking. 

He ignored the irate driver and navigated quickly to the side of the road, tires screeching as he jammed on the brakes. His heart raced and his brain spun in circles as he tried to understand how this could happen once again. Empty. The car seat was devoid of life forms, alien or human. Danny, the cute bit of a thing he’d been mentally waxing poetic about, had jimmied his way out of the car seat that was supposed to be childproof. He’d also somehow unlocked the back seat, flipped it down and he could just see a small butt and feet poking out.

“Danny,” he said with a sigh and a half-chuckle. 

His relief that there was a limited space in which Danny could skitter off to was short-lived, as he remembered how he’d stocked the trunk of the Camaro to be prepared for a wide variety of (unrealistic, Danny would say) eventualities. Steve slammed the gearshift up to park, fumbled with his seatbelt and the door handle at the same time. If he thought Danny hanging off a palm tree was bad to witness, he did not want to consider what the boy would get into in that trunk. He could almost hear his Danny’s voice griping about the fact that Grace had to be safe in this car at all times, no grenades in the glove box, no explosives in the trunk when they weren’t on the clock.

He popped the trunk as he raced toward it, vaguely aware of other motorists giving him dirty looks. He probably had on a face Danny would name or had already named. He didn’t care. He flipped the lid open wider, startling Danny into a wide-eyed stare. The blue Superman shirt he’d picked out made his eyes even bluer, the red boardies were sliding down and the yellow slippahs with a back strap assist were halfway off of his feet. The boy held a tear gas canister in hands that made it look enormous and in a flash, Steve envisioned all of the debilitating, deadly effects the chemical weapon could have on a person as small as Danny. He didn’t give Danny the chance to prove he could outwit the safety measures – he had no doubt it would happen if he didn’t get the thing away. 

Danny shook the tear gas, a curious look on his face.

Steve lunged. He somehow missed in the first attempt as the tot dodged into a corner, while his own head clanged against the edge of the trunk. He bit back a curse and pretended it didn’t bother him when Danny laughed at the resounding thunk of his head against metal. 

“Can’t git me.”

“Come here, you,” Steve said.

In the end, age, muscle and the length of Steve’s arms won out. He snared Danny by the back of the shorts on the second try, tugged him carefully up. As he did so, he was struck once again by how little Danny was in his hands, and it made him want to shield and protect despite Danny’s dislike of him. He extracted the tear gas easily, tossed it aside – on top of the regular grenades and the flash bombs – and finally pulled Danny out of the trunk. To his surprise, Danny didn’t buck or fight him. Instead, when he cleared the trunk and settled Danny in on arm, Steve got a sharp poke to the chest.

“You. Have. Toys,” Danny said, chest puffed up and jaw set in a stubborn line. It sounded accusatory, like Steve had been holding out on him. He poked Steve’s chest one more time. “ _Toys!_ ”

In the giddiness of his relief, all Steve could do was sag against the back bumper, tighten his grip on Danny and laugh weakly as the little boy strained against him not to get away, but to get his hands on the “toys”. He was going to enjoy the hell out of relating this particular part of the story to Danny when he was back, as much as he dreaded having to admit maybe his partner had a point about making the Camaro an arsenal on wheels.


End file.
